


some english cr@p i wrote

by trixyadelano



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Cancer, Death, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixyadelano/pseuds/trixyadelano
Summary: this is something I had to write for english mock and apparently it's good?????????????????????i need to post something here so yh





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is something I had to write for english mock and apparently it's good?????????????????????  
> i need to post something here so yh

I couldn’t believe it had happened again. It was bad enough the first time, when Dad ended up leaving because he didn’t want to see Mum moping around the house all day. He used to shout at her and hit her; telling her that she was useless because she couldn’t get better. But then she did, and then she went back to work and attended night school a few days a week. Dad moved back in, and we were having a fresh start. I was told that everything would be okay.  
And it was, for a while. The Mum fainted again, and now we’re all sat in hospital, wondering if she’ll even make it through the night. Dad said that ‘the C word’ has come back, and this time it won’t be going away. He doesn’t look angry this time, just sad. He’s been on the phone all night; we’ve been told to be prepared for the worst. That means that Mum’s going to die- but I can’t say anything because they don’t know how aware I am of everything.  
I went in to see Mum earlier, only she wasn’t my Mum. My mum’s got pink rosy cheeks and red lips and nice curly hair. The lady in there is asleep, and she’s the same dull white as the bedsheets. Her lips are grey too, and her hair looks dull and not at all bouncy. I keep trying to get this lady out of my head- I don’t want to remember my mum like that.  
I can’t ever ask about anything, because I can’t talk. I’ve never been able to, not since Mum was ill the first time. The doctors said that it was because of trauma, but I wouldn’t believe a word they said. They said this was common, and that’s what I am. Common as Muck [with the capitalised ‘M’]. That’s what Dad used to call me. He used to call me all sorts of nasty names, and nobody told him to stop. Not even Nan, who hates him for how he treated Mum.  
I bet Dad did this. I bet he made her ill again, so that he could move in with his special friend Karen. Dad told me that I mustn’t tell anyone about Karen. They were together when Mum was ill, and they’re still together now- behind Mum’s back. Dad hides al sorts of things from Mum, like how he goes to Karen’s after work every day, and how every Saturday he visits her instead of taking me to the park.  
Dad said to me that Karen was pretty, but she doesn’t sound as pretty as my Mum. She’s the type of person you’d call a chav or a benefits cheat. She lives on a council estate, and she does nothing but watch her soaps and smoke every day. My Mum doesn’t do that. She goes to work, and does the shop every Wednesday. She doesn’t ever drink alcohol [Dad does- all the time!] and she doesn’t shout or hit. She says that life’s too short for all of this.  
Maybe if it was Mum and me then she wouldn’t be ill again. Maybe she’d be okay, and everything would be okay again. Just like when Dad was gone and we ‘Just About Managed’. That’s what Mum called it. She took her medicine and Nan took her to the hospital for her check-ups and her meetings. We had takeaway every night except Tuesday, when Nan came. I just want my Mum with her bouncy curls back.


End file.
